


Leader

by niceasspavus



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bad Dirty Talk, Dissociation, Drinking, First Time, Flirting, Friends to Lovers, Internalized Homophobia, Jealousy, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Pining, Sexual Inexperience, implied baekxing, matchmaker sehun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-17 02:40:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8127214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niceasspavus/pseuds/niceasspavus
Summary: Jongdae gets tipsy. Junmyeon gets stressed.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Additional warnings: implied ed, implied mental illness, ableist language, one use of the q-slur, one off-hand su*c*de ment
> 
> Constructive editing suggestions are welcome, as this has not been beta'd.
> 
> This is the first EXO fic I've written. I hope you enjoy :3

It’s not the first time they’ve smuggled in alcohol. As closely monitored as their lives are, Baekhyun has his ways. And a blueprint of the ventilation system, supposedly. But Junmyeon suspects otherwise when their manager helpfully ducks his head away from Baekhyun’s clinking knapsack and retreats into his room with a heavy paper bag of his own.

It’s Friday and they have the weekend off. They’ve been pushed hard these last couple months and it’s clear on the faces of the members that they’re looking forward to letting loose tonight. Snacks are spread out neatly on the floor within a circle of hungry, cross-legged boys, while those more interested in the beverages crowd around Baekhyun and his bag. It’s an impressive variety, and Baekhyun makes a show of clutching his aching back when he stands to properly appreciate the gratitude his friends hum up at him.

Bottles and cans are passed, traded, cracked open. Junmyeon makes a short toast. The others humour him. Chanyeol clops his beer against Kyungsoo’s yakult. Baekhyun licks his lips. Jongin recoils after his first sip. Jongdae and Minseok are the only ones who look cool, chatting on the couch as if they do this every week. Junmyeon shares a little smile with them as the booze hits his throat, grimacing around his bottle because it’s straight Sambuca and Sambuca tastes like shit. Sehun notices and reaches over his lap to steal it from him, so Junmyeon busies himself with the food instead. He doesn’t drink, usually. But he’d rather indulge than be a killjoy tonight.

He’s wiping crumbs from his lip when Jongdae calls from across the living room. “Suho-hyung!” He fervently pats the empty spot to his right and Junmyeon ambles over.

“Suho has a superpower,” Jongdae is telling Minseok as he sinks down beside them on the couch. 

“Water power!” crows Minseok, cheeks already a little flushed with drink.

“The power of pretension,” Jongdae corrects grandly, placing his hot palm over Junmyeon’s eyes. “Suho-hyung… _Name That Brand!_ ” A paper cup is being pressed against his lips. Junmyeon sips dutifully. It’s a game from their predebut days.

Ugh. “Captain Q,” he chokes. “Swill.”

The other two laugh and clap their hands together. “Another, another!”

Junmyeon shows off his discerning palate until he smells that the Sambuca has reached him again. “Enough, enough,” he pleads through his laughter. “Please.” The room is loud and he’s starting to get a little spacy and distant. He’s not totally sure how much he’s had to drink so far, but blinking feels weird and he’s hyperaware of Jongdae’s warm thigh pressed against his.

Junmyeon habitually watches the others, ensuring there’s food left, ensuring no one’s toppling over drunk. They seem to be having fun, if sloppily. Sehun’s teaching Yixing how to play cat’s cradle but the latter looks to have tangled himself beyond help. Baekhyun is playing spin-the-bottle with whoever’s unfortunate enough to pass into his vicinity. But the din of laughter and music begins to die down as the snacks, and eventually the alcohol, start to run dry. A few of them retreat to their bedrooms. 

Minseok is hanging on Jongdae’s arm. Tells him a joke. Jongdae writhes and cackles against Junmyeon’s neck. Their thighs are still pressed together. Everything’s a bit drowsy. The booze has slid pretty fast through all hundred and forty pounds of him and Jongdae’s leg is hot and Jongdae smells nice and Jongdae’s laughter in his ear sounds really clear and sweet. He only realizes he’s closed his eyes when Minseok pats him goodnight some time later and staggers off to his room.

Maybe he drifts off again, he’s not really sure. But the next time Junmyeon peers through his eyelids, half of the lights are off and everyone has gone to bed except for Jongdae, who’s toppled over in the space left by Minseok. He tugs Junmyeon’s arm and drags him down too. He buries his head against the cushions. “Waaahhh. Warm. Sleepy. I’m a duckling.”

“What?” Junmyeon makes to free himself, but Jongdae has his arm clutched tight against his chest and Junmyeon is too dizzy to fight back. He sighs and collapses beside him. “You’ve had too much, I think.”

“Quack.”

“Yes, quack. Bedtime, Jong-duck.”

Jongdae’s eyes are glazed over. “Hyung is so pretty,” he says through a dopey smile. He pokes Junmyeon in the face, narrowly missing his eye. “Pretty skin. Pretty nose. Boop.”

Junmyeon tsks good-naturedly, making to push him away. “Come on. Let’s go pour you into bed.”

Jongdae, wobbly but strong, stealthily rolls until he’s awkwardly straddling Junmyeon’s hips. “No,” he whines, his head drooping. His fringe is tickling Junmyeon’s forehead. “Not sleepy.”

Junmyeon pats his cheek. “Yes you are. Come on.”

“Quack.” Red-rimmed eyes find Junmyeon’s face. “So pretty. Wahh. Can’t believe it.” Jongdae strokes his cheek, pushes back his hair. “So pretty I cry.”

Junmyeon doesn’t know why he’s getting nervous. “Yeah, thanks. I’ve been told.” 

Jongdae laughs. Lurches a little lower. Drags his spread fingers down the expanse of Junmyeon’s chest. They’ve always been touchy, yeah, and souped-up Jongdae has always been handsier than sober Jongdae, but those handsies are starting to grope under Junmyeon’s shirt.

“Jongdae,” he says again. His voice is weak. “Hey.”

His friend slumps down against his shoulder. His clumsy fingers are grazing his abs, ribs. Jongdae makes a little sound of pleasure in Junmyeon’s ear. They’re liquored up and alone and that’s the only reason this is happening and the only reason heat is spreading across his pelvis and he’s not going to think about it anymore. He’s not going to think about how nice Jongdae’s weight feels above him or how comforting his hands are all over his torso or how much he’d like to hear more of those noises. He’s not going to think.

“I like Suho-hyung,” Jongdae mumbles, wiggling his hips a little. If he can feel Junmyeon’s stiffening dick, he isn’t saying anything about it. His hot, fireball-laced breath grazes Junmyeon’s neck. Not thinking is becoming very difficult. Junmyeon decides that his strategy is going to be not moving at all because he doesn’t trust his hands or his hips or his mouth or the self-control that’s supposed to be in charge of them. This is Jongdae. Jongdae. Bad. No. Wrong. Weird. Warm. Soft. Sleepy. Sexy. No. No no no. Bad. Weird. Wrong.

Mercifully, Jongdae’s hands still within a matter of seconds, his body becoming heavier above Junmyeon until a few unintelligible mutters indicate that he’s fallen asleep. Junmyeon heaves him off with some difficulty and escapes from the couch. After placing the trash bin on the ground beside Jongdae’s head, he fucks off to have the coldest shower anyone has ever had.

☆☆☆

Junmyeon’s fingers drum anxiously against the dining table the next morning.

There are always rumours. You pile a dozen boys together for years and something’s going to happen. It’s not said aloud, but it does. The lines between friendship, fanservice, and flirting get blurry. Everybody knows this.

Dating has always been something Junmyeon’s been expected to do. It always came with the looks and grades and talent. For the last couple years, though, he’s been with the group, and never had reason to question what having a relationship would mean for him, even when he started crushing on Luhan. It was platonic. Kind of. Insofar as Junmyeon never drunkenly straddled him and called him pretty. But that, like the Sehun crush that followed, passed quickly enough. 

If the company ever noticed, they never tried to throw girls at him, which was always fine with him. His role’s always required different obligations than those of the other members, and besides, he doesn’t know if he could deal with the added pressure. Jongin and Baekhyun have felt it before with their girlfriends, and it took a toll on everybody. Junmyeon’s never met anybody he thought was worth compromising his comfort in that way.

Jongdae is shifting on the couch, lifting Junmyeon away from his sluggish thoughts. Jongdae stretches, raising his arms above his head and curling his toes. His hair’s all floppy and messy and Junmyeon clenches his fists to stop from walking over and fixing with it. 

Jongdae opens one eye and squints over at him. “Nnngghh. Hey.”

“Morning. Headache?”

Jongdae groans and rolls off the couch onto his feet, a little unstable. “Ugh. Not too bad. Is there food?”

“Not yet.”

He staggers over and plops down onto the chair beside Junmyeon. “What’s going on? Why are you sitting alone in the dark like a creep?”

“Me? I’m fine. A little hungover.”

Jongdae jabs his shoulder playfully. “Lightweight.”

“Don’t make fun of the aged and infirm.” Okay. So. He doesn’t remember. 

Jongdae hangs his head over the back of chair. “Yeah right. Where is everyone? Still sleeping?”

“Yeah. It’s six in the morning, Jongdae.”

“Wah!” Then in a whisper: “Wah. When did we go to sleep last night?”

“Midnight, maybe.”

“Yikes. We really know how to throw a party.”

Junmyeon laughs, and feels a little better. They make toast. Jongdae makes some more. They’re allowed to eat what they want this weekend, but Junmyeon doesn’t want to pay for it later, even if it means resisting Jongdae trying to finger-feed him his crusts.

He’s not sure how, or if, he wants to talk to Jongdae about what happened. He already knows that attempting to avoid him will be fruitless—he’s too dependent on Jongdae for his mental health, and besides, he’s not about to jeopardize their close friendship because Junmyeon couldn’t handle five minutes of drunken fondling.

The thing is that his feelings from last night haven’t dissipated. Jongdae badly needs a shower and a breathmint but he’s somehow still effortlessly irresistible in a way that has Junmyeon knitting his brows and biting his lips. He tries to convince himself that he’s still a little drunk. He’s never been a very good liar.

☆☆☆

Jongin and Kyungsoo and Chanyeol want to go shopping so Jongdae offers to go with them because he needs a new hideous bag or something. Junmyeon decides to go, too. Not because of Jongdae. He doesn’t care about Jongdae. Their driver is informed. Their bodyguards are assembled. The shopping complex is notified.

Leaving the house of their own accord is always a process.

“Dammit, where’s my hat?”

“On your head, dumbass.”

“Oh.”

“Hey. Hurry up, guys.”

“ _Gee gee gee gee b-_ ”

“Stop.”

“I have to pee.”

“You can pee when we get there.”

“ _-aby baby baby-_ ”

“Stop now.”

Masks are pulled over mouths. Sunglasses go on. Junmyeon’s grogginess gets the best of him in the car, and he wakes up with his head on Jongdae’s shoulder and its owner tapping his leg gently. “Hey, we’re here.”

The mall is loud and bright, and Junmyeon struggles to keep it together. The others notice and do what they can to anchor him. Kyungsoo and Jongdae give him little touches to the back. Speak to him softly. Buy him a soda because his blood sugar’s probably low. Alcohol always makes dissociation worse. He should have known better. 

“This colour would look nice on you,” Jongdae says at some point during the day. He’s impervious to the camera flashes that have Junmyeon wincing. 

He blinks, foggy. Store. Shopping. Right. “What, grey? Should I take that as a compliment?”

“Yes.” Jongdae arranges the scarf around Junmyeon’s collar then spins him gently so that he faces himself in the mirror. “See?” He rests his chin on Junmyeon’s shoulder. His lips do that curly thing. 

The scarf is thick and warm and comforting and Junmyeon feels a little ache in his heart knowing that Jongdae is trying to make him feel better. Even in the mirror, even without makeup, Jongdae’s lashes look long and thick and feathery. “It’s nice,” Junmyeon murmurs, pressing his fingers into the wool. Jongdae buys it for him.

On the way back to the dorm they stop at a parking lot along the river because Chanyeol wants to take pictures. While Jongin poses with Kyungsoo, Human Statue, Junmyeon and Jongdae wordlessly claim a bench. Their chaperones hover nearby.

Junmyeon lowers his mask, and his voice. “Hey, so. I wanted to mention. Last night something happened.”

“Mm?” Jongdae chucks a rock at the water. “Did you puke? Did I puke?”

Junmyeon fiddles with the fringe on his new scarf. “No. You, ah. You sort of came onto me.”

Splash. “I come onto you all the time.”

“No, you were like. On top of me.”

Splash. “Really? Sorry, man.”

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

Splash. “I probably drank too much.”

“Yeah.”

Splash. “Did, uh. Did I do anything…?”

“No! No. I mean. You got into my shirt. But it’s cool. I just wanted to know if you remembered.”

Silence. “No, I don’t. Did anyone else—”

“No.”

“Okay. Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s good.”

“’Kay.”

“Yeah.”

Splash. “I’ll at least buy you dinner next time.” And the tension is gone. 

Junmyeon counts seven more splashes before the others are ready to go. Jongdae’s hand brushes against his on the way back up to the car.

☆☆☆

Sehun, Baekhyun, and Minseok are the ones who want to get out of the house the next afternoon. Minseok entices Jongdae along, too. Junmyeon doesn’t want to spend the day alone in his room, even if it means another day without rest. So he goes, too. Not because of Jongdae. 

Even though it’s tedious, they’re driven two hours out of town to go to a little restaurant they like just off the highway, where the owner knows them by name—nickname, anyway—but not by the celebrity that can complicate activities in Seoul. 

The ahjussi’s face crinkles up when the little tinkle of the door announces their arrival. He bows to Junmyeon, who’s in front, and greets him as Visa-ssi. Junmyeon Always Swipes.

They’re seated with tea. Sehun—“Legs”—has to shuffle around awkwardly to fit his namesakes under the low table. Jongdae takes his unspoken place between Junmyeon and Minseok. Baekhyun sprawls in the remaining space, though his first choice was Sehun’s lap. 

It’s cozy and familiar and Junmyeon feels okay. The tea is good. They’re close enough to the sea to smell the salt on the air drifting in through the cracked window. Jongdae is saying something and everyone is laughing. Baekhyun is sending snaps to Yixing, who endeavoured to sleep in. Junmyeon lets go of some of his anxieties from the previous nights. For a time, anyway.

Things feel normal between them, and yet not quite normal. Jongdae’s clingy and whiny and adorable but he’s always been clingy and whiny and adorable. But when Jongdae grips Junmyeon’s thigh because he needs an anchor for his laughter, or rubs his arm when Junmyeon starts to look spacey, it almost seems as if his touches… loiter. Junmyeon doesn’t think he’s imagining it, but he also doesn’t know if this is something that’s always happened, or if he’s just hyperaware of it now. Dammit. When did he start to get warm tinglies for Jongdae? Why did this have to happen to him? Was he a fucking mosquito in his previous life? Or one of those guys who designs clothing for pets? What could he possibly have done to deserve-

Jongdae hugs him tight from the side.

-deserve Kim Jongdae.

They’ve touched before. They’ve kissed before. Like. Stage kisses. Joke kisses. They all do it. Junmyeon can’t really remember what it was like because performance adrenaline kind of messes with your memory and also he hadn’t been paying attention properly because he’s an idiot and is the reincarnation of somebody who made tuxedos for dogs. 

Lunch arrives. Jongdae makes noise while he eats. It’s annoying. But his mouth is pretty, and Junmyeon finds that his eyes linger there. Those little curly bits at the corners. The way his lips move when he talks. He’s got nice teeth. Straight. White. His eyes are really beautiful too. Sometimes he does a thing where he looks up from under his thick lashes and he looks really pretty. Cute, expressive eyebrows. Luminous skin. Good cheekbones. They become really prominent when he sucks cola through his straw. 

Somebody kicks Junmyeon under the table. _Legs_. Sehun’s watching him. Watching him watch Jongdae. Junmyeon blushes, because that’s what he does when blushing is the most inconvenient. He clears his throat and stands abruptly. “Going to the washroom.” 

The sound of furniture being rearranged indicates that Sehun is following.

When they’re down the corridor and out of earshot, Junmyeon flicks his hand impatiently. “Coming to watch me pee?”

“Yes,” Sehun says.

“Ugh.” He doesn’t hold the washroom door open for him and marches straight for the single stall, locking it forcefully behind him while Sehun, presumably, fiddles with his hair in the mirror.

“So…” he begins, as Junmyeon unzips his pants.

Fuck everything. “So _what?_ ”

“Nothing.”

Junmyeon presses his lips together tight. Pisses. Zips. Glares at his hands in the sink when he stomps out to wash them. 

Sehun’s surveying him in the mirror like a cat. “You like Jongdae.”

Paper towel crumples in his hands. “I hate Jongdae. I hate you.”

Sehun holds a long finger to his lips. “I won’t tell.”

“Fuck you, honestly.”

He smiles, unconcerned, as Junmyeon leads the way back to the table. The others pick at the remains of their lunch. Junmyeon sits, frozen, chopsticks poised in thought.

He’s probably just sexually frustrated. Right? It happens. Chanyeol talks about erections, like, constantly. But if he stares longingly at his bandmates to deal with it, Junmyeon hasn’t noticed. If it was just his pretty face, Junmyeon thinks that he’d be alright. But it’s the whole thing. His face, his body, his character, the way he moves, the way he smells, the sound of his laughter. It’s the way his jeans hug his ass and it’s his flirtiness and it’s the sweet, smooth texture of his voice. It’s how his arms look when he stretches them over his head. It’s the stray hairs that fall onto his forehead, and it’s the delicate way he brushes them back with the tip of his fingers.

He wants to be on him and at him and in him. And he realizes that he’s wanted this for a long, long time.

Sehun smirks at him from across the table. “Your treat, Visa-hyung?”

☆☆☆

That evening, Junmyeon ruminates on Jongdae’s body and character and movements and smell and laughter and ass and voice and arms and hair and fingers. He develops a Problem.

“Sehunnie. Go sleep on the couch tonight.”

“What.”

“Sehun.”

“No thank you.”

“ _Sehun._ ”

“Give me your credit card.”

Junmyeon flings his wallet at him. It bounces off his chest. 

“Hormones, huh?”

“Nighty night, Sehun.”

“Ew.”

“Get _out._ ”

Sehun shouts through the door to remind Junmyeon that there are tissues in the bedside table. _Fuck my life_. Junmyeon collapses face-first into his sheets. _Fuck my whole life._ It’s a while before the mortification fades enough for him to get in the mood. _Okay, Visa. Think of something sexy._ It’s a struggle. He thinks about that one girl in that band he sort of likes. What’s-her-name. Oh god, he’s such an asshole. 

He rolls over. Fondles himself a bit over his clothes. Wriggles with frustration and no small amount of self-loathing. Okay, he likes Jongdae. But he’s not. Like. _That way._ Is he? No. EXO Suho, lady’s man. Pretty boy Suho. Putty-in-his-hands Suho. 

_Keep dreaming, Suho._

Maybe it’s not even a big deal. As long as it’s hush hush, right. Sehun was pretty nonchalant about the whole thing but Sehun is probably getting regularly sucked off by one of the others and that’s why he’s so damn relaxed all the time. Junmyeon kicks his socks off resentfully. The thought was in jest, but there’s probably a lot going on among the members that he doesn’t know about.

Girls. Girls. Hot, hot girls. Flaccid. Flaccid. Flaccid, blue-balled queer. The only thing that’s gotten him remotely excited in the last however many months has been when slobbery drunk Jongdae sat on him the other night. Jongdae’s hands under his shirt. Jongdae’s mindless touches. Jongdae nestling his face against his neck. Jongdae’s hips pressing against his.

He’s hard and he hates himself, but he’s willing to be persuaded by the fool notion that one good orgasm will stop him from pining after his bandmate. Right.

There are tissues in the bedside table.

☆☆☆

On Monday they’re back on their schedule, which is good because it requires focus, but which is also bad because it requires focus. 

Jongdae takes Junmyeon aside during break. “What’s up? You’re so out of it lately.”

Last night’s fantasies, tame as they were, have him averting his eyes. Hands in his hair. Lips on his lips. “I’m fine. Just not sleeping well, I guess.”

Jongdae rubs his arm sympathetically. “Sehun snoring?”

“I don’t snore,” the accused insists, passing by to get a bottle of water.

Junmyeon runs a nervous hand through his hair. Smell of his skin. Sound of his gasps. “Don’t worry about me.” Jongdae’s hair is sticking to his forehead in sweaty spikes. Junmyeon really wants to brush it from his eyes. 

Jongdae tosses his head dramatically, which luckily does the trick anyway. “ _Don’t worry about me._ So cool. So manly.”

Junmyeon hits him in the chest and Jongdae laughs. They resume practice. Unfortunately, it’s harder than that to pretend you didn’t spend the previous night jacking off to the thought of your best friend. 

☆☆☆

Junmyeon isn’t sure where the time goes. His day-to-day becomes an identity swamp, a sinkhole of doubt and self-loathing, a muggy mask-full of pining and pother. He might be able to trick himself into believing it was something transient if his palm didn’t curl around his dick so often and his thoughts didn’t curl around the heady memory of Jongdae drunkenly grinding against his pelvis. He spends virtually every day in Jongdae’s presence, an uncomfortable limbo interrupted by rays of his laughter, his touches, the reality of his existence. He’s so bright. Clear. Vivid in a world that Junmyeon so often has to trudge through. The little things ground him, and undo him. The way his hand fits into Junmyeon’s slightly larger one. The way his smile is just a little bit crooked. His eyelashes. Everything about him. Everything. His everything. He’s everything. He lives in a world filled with beautiful people, but Jongdae is the most beautiful. 

☆☆☆

Their regular schedule is interrupted some weeks later when they’re obligated to attend an awards show. Junmyeon doesn’t remember what it’s for or why the band was invited. Jongdae fixes Junmyeon’s collar in the car. He’s wearing new cologne. He smells incredible.

They have a press event in the hotel the next morning, so the company’s rented suites upstairs for them to stay the night once the afterparty concludes. Junmyeon’s rooming with Jongdae and Chanyeol, because of course he is. Chanyeol packs a whole suitcase as if he’s preparing to be on vacation for a week. When the others eye his burden, he simply says “This party’s gonna be lit.”

Junmyeon stands when the others stand, applauds when the others applaud, smiles when the others laugh. Jongin, on his left, eyes him worriedly and pats his leg. Chanyeol, on his right, is oblivious to Junmyeon’s mental absence. And most things. They’re driven back to the hotel for the party. Jongdae is in another car, but Junmyeon still smells him on his collar. Sehun strokes his arm. 

The banquet hall has been set up like a club, bar and booths and dance floor and coloured lights. Some famous person clutching their award asks Baekhyun for his autograph. Everybody shakes hands and smiles with some people who look vaguely familiar to Junmyeon. It’s blurry. Sehun sternly shoves hors d'oeuvres in his mouth and orders him to go get a drink before disappearing into the crowd.

Junmyeon busies himself with a glass of sparkling cranberry juice because he feels like a sparkling cranberry juice kind of person right now. Leaning back against the plush leather couch claimed by the band, he hazily surveys the dance floor. Jongdae’s dancing nearby with Baekhyun and Minseok and Yixing. Minseok and Yixing are better. The former two have a habit of resorting to freestyle wiggling – shoulders and hips respectively, but Junmyeon – also hips – isn’t really one to judge. Eventually Baekhyun herds Yixing to the side so he has more room to wiggle against him, because hey, it’s Baekhyun, and Junmyeon is left observing Jongdae and Minseok and their shared breathless laughter.

Minseok and Jongdae have always been closer than he and Jongdae. Spending time together seems to be so effortless to them, so relaxed and content, whereas Junmyeon and Jongdae tend to bicker if left together for too long. Minseok moved into Jongdae’s room after Jongdae decided he couldn’t be roommates with Junmyeon. _Messy. Controlling. Needy._ It was a hard time for Junmyeon, even though Jongdae assured him that they couldn’t room together because Jongdae “wanted to stay friends with him.” It’s hard not to be jealous of Minseok. Jongdae and Minseok are kindred spirits. Jongdae and Junmyeon sometimes seem like opposites. 

It’s worse because Junmyeon likes and admires Minseok. Minseok gets along with everyone. He has a quiet, gentle authority that Junmyeon wishes he had. Junmyeon is too self-conscious. Junmyeon tries too hard. Junmyeon is affectatious. _A show-off. Petty. Pretentious. Self-centred._

Junmyeon sometimes hates himself.

“You’re getting black-hole eyes, hyung.”

He blinks and Jongdae materializes beside him, bottle in hand, eyebrows tented. Minseok’s not with him. The lights make Jongdae’s face all glittery.

“I’m fine,” Junmyeon says automatically.

“Uh huh. Come dance, okay?”

Junmyeon mumbles something into his now-empty glass.

“Hey.” Jongdae touches his hand. He’s warm. “Come with me. Okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

Jongdae pulls him onto the dance floor, where Junmyeon shuffles to the music to humour him. His heart is heavy. Junmyeon surveys the crowd, finding Minseok dancing with the celebrity who solicited Baekhyun earlier. Baekhyun himself and Yixing have disappeared.

Jongdae’s trying to steal Junmyeon’s attention, and, unsurprisingly, he’s succeeding. He sticks his bottle under Junmyeon’s lips. “Thirsty?”

“Not for alcohol.”

Jongdae’s eyebrows wiggle suggestively.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Mhm. Hydration is important.”

Junmyeon swats him. “Stop flirting.” In spite of himself, his heart is thawing out. 

“I’m not flirting. Also, you like it.”

“You’re drunk.”

“You’re cute.”

You’re cute. Bitterness creeps into Junmyeon’s blood because he does like it but Jongdae doesn’t know how much he likes it and Jongdae is breaking his heart but making it race, too. In the end, none of it matters because Jongdae doesn’t like him like that and Junmyeon is an asshole anyways and even if he wasn’t and Jongdae did like him, they’re not allowed to do anything. _Nothing matters, none of this matters, I don’t matter._ It’s the cynicism that makes Junmyeon flirt back. If clumsily.

“ _You’re_ cute, Chen-a.”

“Ahh, stop, you’ll make me blush.”

“Shut up. You’ve never once blushed in your life. You’re shameless.”

Jongdae drapes his arm over Junmyeon’s shoulders and empties his bottle. “You know me well, hyung.”

Junmyeon actually smiles. He takes a breath to respond when “Lotto” comes on the speakers, the culprit behind the DJ table looking suspiciously like Park Chanyeol. Laughter ripples through the crowd, soon drowned out by Jongdae’s celebratory yelling. He resumes his freestyle wiggling from earlier, flailing to lyrics sung by their respective voices across the room. Junmyeon feels light, almost giddy. 

Kai.  
_Pretending not to be interested, avoiding your eyes  
Please understand, I have to risk my all_

The lights pulse to the beat.

D.O.  
_It might only be once in my life  
My repressed instincts are resurfacing_

Baekhyun’s still god-knows-where, but his fan in the crowd is happy to take over the chorus for him.

Chanyeol.  
_You’re my luck_  
_You make me throw my heart into a thread-like chance_  
_Now the others have their popcorn_  
_Waiting to see what happens to us_

Suho.  
_Everything changes (oh yeah)_  
_Even the air is different from today_  
_The world changes_  
_The night sky is filled with silver stars_

The whole room _ka-chings_. Sehun and Jongin waltz by. Jongdae shouts something unintelligible in Junmyeon’s ear. Junmyeon laughs anyway. Jongdae spins him.

Suho.  
_I’m thirsty even now, there’s still so much to give you_

One part choreography, one part improvisation, one part tipsy Jongdae. They keep bumping into each other. Junmyeon’s face hurts from laughing.

Chen.  
_I don’t need no money  
I just need you_

Jongdae’s hot eyes meet Junmyeon’s. It’s a flurry of touches and noise and laughter and he feels alive and dizzy and wonderful.

Chen.  
_I want you so bad_

Somewhere their dancing has transformed from silly to sexy. One hand squeezing Junmyeon’s shoulder, one on his drink, Jongdae looks fucking magnificent. His body rolls. His hips thrust. His hair flops. His permanent smile and mischievous gaze have made Junmyeon’s self-loathing evaporate above the pulsing dance floor. The song ends and a crowing Jongdae falls jubilantly into his arms.

☆☆☆

Some hours later, some drinks later, the two of them take the elevator up to their room. They’re alone, and Junmyeon is content, if a little nervous. Chanyeol and Kyungsoo and Sehun decided to go for a late-night swim at the 24-hour gym downstairs, and Junmyeon secretly hopes that their roommate will find alternate accommodations. Not that Chanyeol isn’t one of his best friends, but. He kind of wants all of Jongdae’s sunshine to himself for a little longer. He’s optimistic. Chanyeol’s luggage had been filled with pool toys.

Jongdae timbers backwards onto one of the three beds. The pillows fwoop. “Ahhh, I’m so tired. Did you have fun tonight?”

“I did,” Junmyeon admits, fwooping down beside him and rubbing his sore eyes. “Thanks for making me dance. You- It cheered me up.”

“Anytime. I hate seeing you mope, hyung.”

“It’s not moping.”

“Brooding, then.”

“I do not _brood_.” Junmyeon rolls on his side towards him to deliver retribution, but feels an unsteadying lurch. Like vertigo. Or, more plausibly, like too much brandy and dancing. When did he drink brandy? He doesn’t remember, but he tastes it, so he must have.

Jongdae cackles at him. “You okay? Please don’t barf on me. I’ll be really upset.”

“It’s okay, I’m a man who knows how to hold his sparkling cranberry juice.”

“Is that what that was? Good god. It’s a wonder you were able to stay up so late, grandpa.” Junmyeon hits him in the arm and Jongdae sticks his lip out. “Ah wae!”

They’re so close. Jongdae’s mouth is so beautiful. Fucking hell. That gentle, appetizing curl. It looks so soft. Pliant. Jongdae’s heavily-lashed eyes flicker down to Junmyeon’s own mouth.

He doesn’t know who initiates the kiss, but god, god, they’re kissing. Jongdae’s lips part enthusiastically beneath Junmyeon’s, breathing him in, so warm, _fuck_ , he’s so warm. “Hyung,” he whispers.

“I can’t stop thinking about you” is Junmyeon’s choked reply. 

His hands find Jongdae’s hair, damp and messy from dancing, but thick and soft and gorgeous. He grips it to pull him closer against him mouth, because god, he’s waited so long, god, god, he’s wanted this for so so long. Their teeth clack together because Jongdae’s smiling. Junmyeon boldly runs his tongue over the smile. The younger hums beneath him at the contact, eagerly testing Junmyeon’s mouth with his own. Jongdae smells like booze and sweat and sex and the cologne that’s been lingering on Junmyeon’s collar for hours. Junmyeon fills his lungs with Kim Jongdae.

Someone hammers on the door.

They flinch apart as if burned. “Oh,” Jongdae murmurs regretfully.

The urgent knocking comes again. “Let me in! Jongdae! Suho-hyung! Guys!” 

Junmyeon has never hated Park Chanyeol more. He sits up. Jongdae clasps his wrist. Pouts. 

“Guys! Kyungsoo stole my swim trunks while I was in the shower! Guys!”

Junmyeon wants to die. He can’t bring himself to look at Jongdae, so turns away before slipping from his grasp, arranging his half-erect dick into his waistband and resentfully unlocking the suite door. A naked Chanyeol scurries past him into the bathroom with his hands over his crotch. His deep voice rumbles from the other side of the door. “Guys, can you pass me my clothes?”

Junmyeon sinks onto the bed. Leans on his knees. Once Jongdae stops hooting at Chanyeol, he just watches him from his reclining posture on the bed with a fondness that makes Junmyeon’s heart clench. His head buzzes. What the fuck have they done. What the fuck did they do. What the fuck would they have done.

Chanyeol emerges from the bathroom in penguin-printed pajamas and climbs grumpily into bed, recounting the whole story until he gets too exhausted to continue. Jongdae gets up to have a shower. Junmyeon pretends to have fallen asleep when he returns. It’s a long, empty night.

☆☆☆

They get a wake-up call at five thirty because the concierge mixed up their room with somebody else’s. Jongdae has bed head and his morning voice is husky and gorgeous from the previous night of cheering and drinking. Chanyeol is wondering aloud if there will be pancakes at breakfast. Junmyeon feels sick, tired, and angry.

He can’t talk to Jongdae with the others there but if the memory of kissing him wasn’t so vivid against his lips, he could have sworn that nothing happened between them at all. Jongdae is his usual self when they all meet for breakfast downstairs, loading his plate at the buffet and eating heartily and laughing with Minseok. Baekhyun is whispering something in Yixing’s ear and Sehun is rolling his eyes. Kyungsoo is carefully blank-faced while Chanyeol tells the swimming trunks story again to Jongin, who chokes on his bagel.

Junmyeon doesn’t even remember how the press thing goes or what it was even for by the time they’re back in the van headed homewards. The last twenty-four hours are like tar in his memory. Jongdae’s cologne. Applause. Cranberry juice. Dancing. Jongdae’s lips. 

In the kitchen that evening, Junmyeon musters the courage to bring it up.

“So. Ah. About last night.” Jongdae, incapable of embarrassment, looks him in the eye. “I’m. I just. Listen, what happened-”

Jongdae rummages through the pantry. “I wonder what it’d be like.”

“I think we- what?”

He looks over his shoulder. He’s holding a tin of pineapple. “Don’t you?”

Junmyeon’s face is hot. His ears are ringing. _It?_ Jongdae wonders what it’d be like. His tongue has stopped. Time has stopped. 

When Junmyeon doesn’t say anything, Jongdae’s mouth quirks, crooked, a bit dreamy. “Hm. Maybe I got the wrong impression. Sorry.”

“Are. I’m. I’m just. Ah.”

Jongdae holds up the can-opener. He looks so fucking stupid. “Want to sleep together, hyung?” Jongin comes into the kitchen to make something to eat, and Jongdae changes the subject.

Henceforth, life naturally becomes a living hell for Kim Junmyeon. Sometimes he thinks Jongdae was joking, but then he remembers that they kissed, and has to wonder if that really happened, because oh my god did they really kiss, what has happened what are we what does all of this mean. Jongdae wants him? Maybe? And Junmyeon wants him too? But? That’s not? Allowed? That’s not allowed. Maybe he was talking about the pineapple. No. He definitely said sleep together. You don’t sleep together with pineapple. You sleep together with your friend Kim Jongdae who is your friend. And a man. And your friend.

His blood is always stinging with stress, his heart is always racing, and he’s always half-hard with intrusive thoughts about someone with whom he’s lived, one or two exceptions aside, quite peacefully for years. He wants to go back to the way things were. No drunk Jongdae on his lap, no Jongdae flirting, no Jongdae kissing.

He can’t talk to him because there are always people around. Well, if he’s honest with himself, Junmyeon makes sure there are always people around because he so dreads continuing this conversation. Dreads rejection, too, but dreads acceptance even more. The whole thing feels too big to even comprehend, so many feelings threatening to overwhelm him when he gives them the slightest heed. 

Junmyeon is losing it. Junmyeon is losing Jongdae.

☆☆☆

Junmyeon finds out the following week that there are _not_ always people around. Yixing is rehearsing for a promo and Jongin is at physio. Chanyeol has to get refitted for some things because he, inconceivably, keeps fucking growing. The members are all gone, the managers are all gone. Junmyeon’s standing at the window, palms sweating, watching the last car drive out of sight. He and Jongdae are home alone. 

He needs to talk to him. Needs to end this, whatever _this_ was. Needs to apologize. Needs to refocus his priorities.

He takes a breath and turns from the window, stopping in his tracks when he finds Jongdae a few steps behind him, surveying him with his hands in his pockets. His lips curl up.

“Oh. H-”

Jongdae is on him all at once, knocking the breath from Junmyeon’s lungs, moistening his dry mouth with his tongue. There’s no time to respond; Jongdae is dragging him by the hands down the hall as he kisses him insistently, groaning and sighing and grunting with a volume only he could be capable of. 

“Hell,” Junmyeon pants, fingers working desperately of their own accord at his friend’s buttons. “Be quieter.”

“Why?” Jongdae isn’t gentle. He nibbles enthusiastically on Junmyeon’s lip. “Nobody’s here.”

“Yeah, but.” He gasps as Jongdae’s teeth find their way to his earlobe. Fuck. “Gotta respect the—ah!—the sanctity of the space. You know.”

Jongdae laughs in his ear. “Sanctity? What the hell? Hyung, it’s not the noise that’s going to desecrate our house.” Jongdae’s enjoying this, but the words halt Junmyeon’s hands. Jongdae notices. “Lighten up,” he says, breath hot on his neck. “Kiss me some more.” Junmyeon complies, if shakily, but Jongdae’s eagerness makes up for it.

Jongdae has him pressed up against the corridor wall, his fingers dextrous and greedy in Junmyeon’s hair. He just seems so. Confident. Neither of them are the type to shy away from something new, or so he likes to think. Jongdae is surpassing him, and it’s unsettling.

“Good lord. Have you. Ah. Done… this… before?”

“What, sex? I thought you knew.”

Holy shit, Jongdae expects to have sex with him. Like. Right now? Here? “No, I mean. Been. With another. Um.”

“What? Oh. No. I don’t want to spoil things for you, oppa, but I think the mechanics are pretty much the same. Although—” Jongdae leans away. “One sec.” He scampers down the hall and disappears into Baekhyun’s room.

Junmyeon’s hands are shaking. All the times he’s imagined this. Jongdae beneath him, melting under his touches. Jongdae looking up at him for instruction. Making Jongdae beg for him. It’s not going as planned. He can hear Jongdae rummaging around in Baekhyun’s things. He approaches, leaning anxiously against the doorframe. “What are you looking for?”

He rifles through more drawers. “I thought Hyunnie would have, like, stuff.” Stuff? What kind of stuff? You need stuff to do it? Junmyeon’s sweating. “Oh! Oh.” Jongdae triumphantly holds up what appears to be a single condom, then, momentarily dejected, tosses it over his shoulder. “Expired. Hey, d’you know if—” He looks up. “Hey. Are you alright?” 

“Y-yeah. Yeah.” 

Jongdae’s eyes crinkle in smile. Shit, he’s so cute. “No you’re not. Listen.” He steps over to Junmyeon and cups his jaw. “We don’t have to do anything, you know that, right? I get it. You won’t hurt my feelings.”

His eyes are so, so pretty. What the hell. “Okay. I just.” Junmyeon takes a breath and runs his unsteady hands over Jongdae’s broad shoulders. Flinches away because they feel really nice. Gosh. “This. This just moved quickly. My brain just needs to catch up.”

“Yeah, sorry. Kind of in a hurry. Dunno when the others will be back.” Jongdae and his pretty eyes are closer. Soft. Sly. The kiss that comes next still isn’t gentle, but it’s nice. Enthusiastic. A bit clumsy. Like Jongdae. Junmyeon presses his lips back fervently until Jongdae starts laughing again.

Junmyeon thought he couldn’t feel more self-conscious. “For the love of god.”

“Sorry! Sorry. This is just so stupid,” Jongdae cackles. “We’re so stupid.”

“You’re stupid.”

Jongdae wraps his arms around him. Squeezes tight. “Yeah.” Smooches his cheek. Takes his hand. “C’mere. Don’t worry. I guess I don’t have to fuck you right this minute.”

What. Junmyeon swallows as Jongdae leads him to the room he shares with Minseok. Jongdae pulls him down on his bed beside him then props himself up on one elbow. Still so relaxed. Jerk.

Jongdae’s finger draws shapes on Junmyeon’s t-shirt. “Can we kiss some more, though? It’s nice.” 

He’s on Kim Jongdae’s bed and Kim Jongdae is asking to kiss him. “’Kay,” he manages. “Yes.”

“’Kay.” Jongdae’s lips are slow and soft, but needy. His free hand curls around his waist. It’s warm through the fabric of Junmyeon’s shirt. This is strange and Junmyeon doesn’t know if he’s doing it right and he thinks too much about what his mouth is doing to properly enjoy it all, but yeah, it is nice. When Jongdae’s tongue starts brushing against his he starts sweating again. His body feels tingly. His crotch feels hot.

Jongdae hums contentedly against Junmyeon’s lips, eliciting a little gasp from the elder. Junmyeon blushes. His responsiveness is probably making him seem even more inexperienced, but Jongdae doesn’t seem to mind. “So cute,” he coos. He’s petting Junmyeon’s chest. Junmyeon’s squirming. “If I knew you were this easy to please, I’d have done it much sooner.”

“You, uh.” Junmyeon clears his throat. “You would have wanted to?”

“For someone so clever, you can be so fucking clueless.” His hand is creeping lower. 

“Well, I-”

Jongdae brushes his palm over the swell of Junmyeon’s crotch, and Junmyeon’s breath hitches. 

“Mmm. Is this okay?”

Junmyeon nervously hums affirmation. Hoooly shit. Shit shit shit. Jongdae’s fingers start curling around his stiffening dick, stroking him over his slacks. It feels fucking amazing. And horrifying. There’s a dude fondling his penis and the dude is his best friend and it’s. Something. Something that makes his hips buck up against Jongdae’s hand because he needs more of it. More of him.

Their breath is getting heavier and Jongdae is pressing his body flush against Junmyeon’s. His hair is floppy in his eyes. Junmyeon pushes it back. He’s so, so beautiful, his eyes heavy-lidded and lush-lashed and dark and hungry. God, he wants to be inside this man. Wants to fuck him senseless. Wants to coax curses from his pretty mouth.

When Junmyeon reaches for the hem of Jongdae’s shirt, Jongdae practically tackles him to get to his faster. Junmyeon knows his body looks good, but he can’t help but self-consciously place his hands protectively over his torso once his top’s been flung to the ground. Jongdae disposes of his own shirt. He’s built a little broader, stocky where Junmyeon is lithe. Jongdae carries his body differently, too. More confidence, less affectation. A narrow trail of curly hair disappears into the hem of his pants. It’s nothing Junmyeon hasn’t seen before, but hell, Jongdae has never looked so beautiful, so appealing, so heart-wrenchingly sexy. The way his muscles flex when he moves, the way his face lights up when he grins down at the man beneath. The desire in Jongdae’s eyes is so enticing that Junmyeon sets his remaining uneasiness aside to pull the other man down on top of him. Jongdae’s eager to comply, but it’s not long before his hands are out of Junmyeon’s hair and on his belt. Junmyeon tugs off his pants and socks. He’s left in his boxer briefs, which do little to hide his excitement.

Jongdae turns his head to look. Knits his brows and bites his lip at the sight. “Ah, fuck.”

Junmyeon smirks and opens his mouth to say something flirty. Then closes it. It’s a new thing he’s trying. Shutting up.

Jongdae glances back to him, palm skimming over Junmyeon’s abs. His voice is husky. Melodic. “I’ve never seen you like this.” His lips are so pink and swollen. Junmyeon almost whimpers. “You look really good.” An inane compliment, but it has Junmyeon preening under the scrutiny.

“Thanks. Take yours off now.”

“Say please.”

Junmyeon wets his lips. “Please.”

The younger man grins and cheekily poses for Junmyeon once his pants joins his on the floor, leaning back on his elbows, raising a knee, throwing his head back.

“Stop that.”

“Don’t you like it?”

“Vanity is a sin.”

“Oh, I see. I’ll stop sinning for you then, hyung.” Jongdae crawls over him and mashes their mouths together again, settling over his hips so he can rut his crotch against Junmyeon’s. Their moans and grunts and breathy gasps create the prettiest harmony, Junmyeon thinks. He hears a whine rising in Jongdae’s throat. 

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Tell me.”

Jongdae bites his lip. “I, ahh. Wanna suck you.”

Oh. “Oh.”

“I’m not asking to do it right now,” he responds hurriedly, averting his eyes. “Just. Like. Wow, I really want to.”

“Right. Well. That sounds really. Yeah. I’ve never—”

“Me neither. Given one, I mean.”

“Right.”

They look at each other and collapse into silent laughter because they’re being stupid again and because they’re nervous and because this is bizarre and weird and perfect. Junmyeon takes Jongdae up in his arms and they roll and giggle atop the bedsheets in their underwear. Stupid.

“Is this happening?”

“Yep.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“Hey. You have pretty nipples, hyung.”

“I— You have pretty nipples too.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“I’m gonna touch them. If that’s okay.”

“’Kay.”

“Does it feel alright?”

“Mm.”

“What about this?”

“ _Mm._ ”

“Hey, can I take these off, hyung?”

“’Kay.”

“That’s better, right?”

“Mm. _Mm._ Oh, fuck. Oh my god, Jongdae.”

“You like this?”

“Oh, _oh_ , fuck, yes, fuck.”

“Can I use my mouth?”

“’K-kay.”

“Can I?”

“Yes. Okay. Yes.”

Jongdae winks victoriously. He literally fucking _winks_. He inches lower. His lips trace the dips of Junmyeon’s abdomen, his hipbones, his neatly trimmed patch of curly dark hair.

“You’re really handsome,” Jongdae says at Junmyeon’s penis.

Junmyeon throws his head against the pillows when his friend licks a stripe from base to tip. A little _oh_ escapes his lips. He looks up to the sight of Jongdae smirking at him.

“Is it good?” He doesn’t wait for an answer before dragging his tongue up his length again.

“ _Mmmpphhhh._ ”

Jongdae experiments, listening for Junmyeon’s universally approving responses. The first time he takes his shaft in his mouth, he utterly jolts against the mattress. Jongdae sucks at his head, twists his palm around his shaft, laps demurely at his balls. He claimed not to have done this before, but he still manages to look pretty damn good while doing it. His cheekbones are stunning when he hollows his cheeks and draws his lips along Junmyeon’s cock. His eyelashes flutter with the effort of taking him deeper. Junmyeon has a considerable dick, but Jongdae has a considerable mouth.

For the first time in a long time Junmyeon actually feels present, feels here, feels anchored to the world. The pleasure throbbing through his body is made so much the sweeter, so much richer, by the fact that Kim Jongdae is responsible for it.

He’s not in a state to verbally alert him so he can only tug on Jongdae’s hair when he feels his orgasm rapidly building. Jongdae clasps his thigh and sucks at him enthusiastically until Junmyeon is crying out through the most powerful release he’s had in his life. Jongdae swallows him down hungrily. His tongue darts out to lick at a drop of cum pooled in the corner of his mouth, tilting his head curiously at the taste. “That was fun.” Through blurry eyes he can see Jongdae kicking off the underwear he’d forgotten he was still wearing and shakily sits up to receive him. “Don’t move,” Jongdae murmurs quietly in his ear after pressing him back against the sheets. “Just tell me how you’d like to repay me later.”

“Want to see,” he mumbles.

“Yeah? What do you want to see, hyung?” His voice is so low and sexy and soothing. 

“Your penis.”

“Yikes. Nothing like the word _penis_ to kill the mood.” 

“Sorry. Sleepy.”

“S’alright. I’ll move past it. But only because it’s you.”

“Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

Junmyeon tries to pull himself together for Jongdae, who’s supporting his weight on one hand and wrapping the other around his cock. He stretches luxuriously beneath him, still swimming hazily in the afterglow. His pelvis is throbbing in the most exquisite way. But. Dirty talk. Tell him how he’d like to repay him later. Right.

“Gonna. Umm. Have some sex. With you. Maybe. If you want.”

“You’re embarrassing,” says Jongdae, his hand stuttering when he laughs. “But you’re also really sexy like this, so.”

“You’re sexy. You’ve always been so sexy. Have wanted you. So long. Such a long time.”

Jongdae’s voice drops conspiratorially. “Mm? How long?”

“Weeks. Months. Forever.” Junmyeon blinks dopily and raises his arms above his head, which draws a little whimper from Jongdae, who picks up the pace of his strokes. Junmyeon eyes Jongdae’s dick properly for the first time. It’s nice. Curved a little, like his lips. “I want to touch.”

“Not right now. I’ve just really wanted to do this for a while.”

“Do what?”

“Come all over your abs.”

“Oh.” Jongdae’s thought about him like this? For “a while”? Junmyeon can’t help but drag him by the hair back against his lips. The taste of his own cum on Jongdae’s mouth is surprising and kind of gross but still makes his heart leap in a good way, especially when he receives it on his tongue with Jongdae’s increasingly loud moans. The words spill out on their own. “Yes, Jongdae-ah, that’s right, good, come on me, Jongdae. I want it.”

“Fuck.”

“Do it, Jongdae-ah. Do it like you’ve always wanted.”

It falls hot and wet and thick on Junmyeon’s body, covering the canvas of his torso like a wanton painting while Jongdae groans and gasps against his neck. He allows himself a look of satisfaction at his handiwork before lowering himself onto Junmyeon’s cum-slick body. Their bodies slide together. It’s messy and obscene and Junmyeon has never been happier.

After a few languid breaths, Jongdae raises himself up and slips out of the room after a quiet, “Be right back,” returning with a towel he uses to clean them up. The demure way he pats away the last of his own cum from Junmyeon’s belly is so intimate that Junmyeon has to blink back tears. _I’m in love with Jongdae_ , he says to himself. _I’m in love with you, Jongdae._

They lie in each other’s arms for some time, humming softly, kissing softly, forehead, nose, lips, chin, neck. But the clock on the nightstand pressingly reminds Junmyeon that they won’t be alone for long. They’re not sure when their housemates will start returning, but it’ll be too weird if they’re found sleeping in the same bed, so they reluctantly redress in sweatpants and t-shirts and move onto the living room sofa. Need to be together. Need to be close.

Jongdae snuggles against Junmyeon shoulder once they’ve dimmed the lights. “Thank you,” he says.

“You’re the loveliest person I’ve ever known,” Junmyeon says back.

They entwine their fingers then pull a blanket over their bodies. They sleep well.

☆☆☆

Junmyeon wakes up with the glow only one who’s been sucked off the previous night can have, but luckily nobody seems to notice except for Sehun, who squints at him suspiciously when Junmyeon greets him a little too cheerfully at the breakfast table. Junmyeon’s dick’s been blown and his heart is full, but he can’t entirely repress the doubts creeping back into his blood regarding this thing with Jongdae. He definitely wants to do it again, definitely wants to do more. 

If there’s something Junmyeon has always been good at, it’s studying, and studying he must do. He’s no innocent flower, or so he wants to think, but sex hasn’t been something he’s thought a lot about before, well. Before now. He understands the _mechanics_ , as Jongdae put it, but is a little more nervous about the aforementioned “stuff.”

Coming to terms with the knowledge that Kim Jongdae wants to fuck his ass is overwhelming in itself, so it’s with deep breaths that Junmyeon embarks on what he chooses to call an Educational Experience but what is in fact going to be a good old-fashioned romp into the anthology of erotic films on the internet. He knows that there’s something inherently flawed with looking to such films for instruction, but he doesn’t have a lot of options. He can’t bear the thought of falling apart like a clueless virgin in front of Jongdae.

Junmyeon knows that any precautions he takes are probably excessive, but his mounting paranoia that somebody will find out he’s searched for gay porn lead him back to Baekhyun’s room, to Baekhyun’s bag, and to “borrowing” Baekhyun’s laptop.

The door is latched. Trousers are off. Power is on. 

~baekhunnie_pc~  
Password Protected

pw: baekhyun  
Access Denied

pw: yixing  
Access Denied

pw: password

He’s in.

Junmyeon sits with his fingers steepled in contemplation for a full five minutes before he resolves to rifle through Baekhyun’s files, because hey, maybe he already has a hidden stash of digital porn because hey, it’s Baekhyun. He finds an obscene number of selcas and a full season of Fruits Basket, but otherwise no luck. He opens an incognito tab on the browser.

At first he rifles through #mff tags because he can pretend that threesomes are somehow marginally less gay. But there are too many limbs and he feels confused so he watches a bunch of guys taking turns giving anal to some small brave lady. He watches a lot of videos. It’s cringy and gross and makes him feel kind of unclean. He’s about five seconds away from googling “sex with dudes tips how.”

When he finally does consign himself to a page horrifyingly titled DO U TWINK IM SEXY he finds a video tagged #firsttime which is kind of comforting, as is that fact that one of the guys actually sort of looks like Jongdae. Only taller. And with a better haircut. And a seven-inch dick. 

Junmyeon watches a bit. Junmyeon squints. Junmyeon wonders if he’s supposed to shave his asshole. Junmyeon chokes on his own saliva. The video’s not doing a lot for him, which is fine, because he’s not here to dick off, he’s here to learn. He starts fumbling through a few English sites about safe sex that look like they’re intended for horny teenagers. There’s a bit lost in translation but his take-away is that “Lube is your friend!!” and that chlamydia is not. Excellent. Great. An afternoon well spent.

He double checks the browsing history. Looks in the downloads folder to make sure he didn’t accidentally save anything. Runs a virus scan. Deletes the record of the virus scan. Logs off. Shuts the computer down. Breathes. Rubs his temples. Wanks to the memory of Jongdae’s lips around his cock. Falls asleep.

☆☆☆

Junmyeon is taking a shower the next morning and decides he should probably try fingering himself. Just to. Well. _Prepare_. 

First he envisions what it would be like for Jongdae to touch him. Well. _There_. His dick springs up in approval, so Junmyeon takes himself in hand until he has to remind himself of his original intention. So, lathering his hands in body wash and, with one palm against the wall to steady himself, he tentatively rubs circles against his asshole. 

It feels nice. Nicer than he’d thought. He winces at the insertion of his first sudsy finger, but dammit, he’s doing this for Jongdae. Junmyeon takes a few calming breathes and slides his digit further, but it just kind of makes him feel like he has to shit, and he gets discouraged. He takes his wilting dick in hand, determined to make this work, but it’s harder to angle himself properly without being able to leverage himself against the wall. He goes back to rubbing against his entrance, trying to imagine his fingertips are Jongdae’s tongue. The next time he ventures inside, he’s more relaxed, more willing. There are moments where he begins to enjoy himself, but his calculating side takes over more often than not as he tries to replicate some of what he learned last night. How to stretch things out. The importance of releasing tension. The prostate. Et cetera. He’s not as successful as he’d like to be. But he does come beautifully against the tiles.

☆☆☆

They don’t have an opportunity to be alone together for a couple of days since any time their schedule allows them to “rest” is spent either inhaling nutrient slurry or passing out asleep on the nearest available surface. The electricity between them is palpable, every casual touch as significant and unravelling as the moments spent consciously not touching. Jongdae, however, is not one for subterfuge, and Junmyeon can tell that he’s getting restless.

Junmyeon’s washing his hands in the bathroom at the studio where they’ve finished shooting an ad when Jongdae comes in, breaking into a smile when he spots the elder. He rolls his shoulders and fixes his bangs in the mirror. “Hey.”

Junmyeon sticks his hands under the automatic dryer, blushing like a schoolboy with a crush. “Hey.” 

“How are you feeling, hyung?”

“Mm. I’m fine. A vacation would be nice.”

“It’d be fun to take one together,” Jongdae says casually.

Junmyeon turns to him, unable to keep from smiling back. It both soothes and scares him that Jongdae still wants him. It’s been difficult to keep his thoughts clean since his little escapade on the internet. “Yeah.” It would be fun. “We haven’t had much time to hang out.” Or make out. Whatever.

And all at once Jongdae’s fingers are winding in Junmyeon’s hair, stiff with product, and he’s pulling him against his lips, hungry, petulant, rough. 

There is excitement. There is fear. “Ah! Jongdae-ah. Jongdae.” A warning. An invocation.

He just groans in response, lifting Junmyeon up against the counter, assailing his mouth with a relish that has Junmyeon fighting for breath. Jongdae pushes his pelvis against his crotch and starts to roll his hips.

“Jongdae,” Junmyeon manages anxiously between kisses, “someone could come in.”

The fluorescent light glints off of his responding grin. “Yep.”

Oh. “ _Jongdae_ ,” Junmyeon implores.

His friend steps back with a whine, allowing Junmyeon to hop down from the counter. “Ahh, you’re no fun.” It’s nothing Junmyeon hasn’t heard before. His chest feels tight around his racing heart. The bathroom door opens and Junmyeon instinctively looks down at his feet. What a mess.

“C’mon,” Jongdae says gently. “Car’s waiting.” 

☆☆☆

Waiting.

Junmyeon can’t bring himself to fool around in the dorm while the others are around. Not that Jongdae’s making it easy for him. He keeps appearing in Junmyeon’s doorway with a crooked smile even when Sehun’s there. Jongdae keeps brushing his fingers against the small of Junmyeon’s back. His arm. The nape of his neck. Once or twice he’s just grabbed Junmyeon by the chin and forced him to look in his eyes before releasing him. Baekhyun thinks they’re having a staring contest championship. Jongdae, restless and horny, begins to refine his strategy. It happens twice before Junmyeon catches on.

The first time draws pursed lips but no suspicions from Junmyeon. Baekhyun’s walking by and slaps Jongdae on the ass because hey, it’s Baekhyun. Jongdae chases after him to retaliate. They end up in a giggling mess on the practice room floor. Excessive, sure, but those two tend to be excessive.

The second time, Jongdae starts petting Baekhyun’s hair while they’re sitting on the couch waiting for their dinner to arrive. Baekhyun preens and hums, because hey, it’s Baekhyun, then lets his head slide down onto Jongdae’s lap. Pet. Scritch scratch. Then fingers through his soft boyish locks, slow and languid. Jongdae looks across the room at Junmyeon from beneath his lashes. His lips curl up like he’s an old movie villain.

Right, so. Okay. Jongdae’s trying to make him jealous. Fine. Right.

It’s not malicious, not really, It’s not in Jongdae to be spiteful, but the man wants what the man wants. Junmyeon doubts that Baekhyun’s in on it too, but that he loves the attention too much to question Jongdae’s affections. Baekhyun’s such a goddamn slut, and for all Junmyeon knows he and Jongdae have- Junmyeon recoils from the idea, but not before it plays out in his mind in horrific detail for half an agonizing second. Nope. No no no no no. Junmyeon pretends to read something on his phone. Grips the arm of the chair until his knuckles go white. Tries to block out the sounds of Baekhyun’s contented whimpers.

Minseok appears. Jongdae gets squished nice and cozy between the two of them. Jongdae’s free hand slips into the elder’s hair, too. Curls one of his locks around a finger while the unbothered Minseok starts chattering about something. Jongdae’s watching Junmyeon the whole time with his dark, suggestive eyes. Junmyeon is crossing his legs with frustration. Pet. Pet. Pet.

Minseok follows Jongdae’s eyes. “Junmyeonnie?”

Grunt.

“Suho-hyung,” Baekhyun mumbles sleepily from Jongdae’s lap. “Come cuddle.”

“I’m fine right here, thank you.”

Minseok smiles, but it might be because Jongdae’s now stroking his thumb along his ear. Baekhyun is practically fucking purring against Jongdae’s thighs. By the time the delivery guy arrives, Junmyeon has convinced himself that they’re all fucking behind his back and that he’s going to die alone.

☆☆☆

When Jongdae doesn’t let up after a few days, Junmyeon confronts him outside. It’s cold and dark and the smell from the dumpster is hardly enticing, but he can’t take it anymore.

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“You’re being manipulative.”

Jongdae rubs his arms, chilly. “How? We’re not dating. You blew me off, anyway.”

“What? No I didn’t! Just because I-” He lowers his voice. “Just because I don’t want to whip my dick out in every public setting like some people-”

“Yeah, well, our lives are public.”

“That’s my point.”

“That’s _my_ point.”

“No, your point is stupid.”

“You’re stupid.”

“ _You’re_ stupid.”

“If you think I’m so stupid, then why do you care what I do?”

“Because I like you, you ass! And I- dammit. I want you. And I want you to want me. Only me.”

Unperturbed by the confession, Jongdae lifts a shoulder. “Then you have to come claim me. I’m not going to play the aimless pining game, hyung.” He looks away. “Not with you.”

Junmyeon squeezes his eyes shut. “I don’t want to mess this up,” he says. “It’s not a game. This isn’t a game.”

“Hey. Talk to me.”

“It’s you. It’s me. It’s wrong and it’s risky and there are a million things that could go wrong. Even if no one found out, or if anyone who did was cool about it, what if we had a falling-out? What then? I can’t lose you. I won’t. I won’t.”

Jongdae touches his shoulder. “Yeah.” He squints against a sudden breeze. “Look, I get it. It’s hard. It’s weird. This whole thing is dumb. But. Listen.” His voice is hoarse. “I can’t go back without knowing what it’s like to- aish…” He looks up at the dark sky and blinks. “Suho-hyung, I can’t go back without knowing what it’s like to have more of you. Could you?”

He considers it. No, he thinks. With someone else, maybe. But not with you. 

“Wondering is worse,” Jongdae continues, the words tumbling with unfamiliar resent from his pretty curved mouth. “Wondering what it’d be like. Wondering if you wanted it too. Disbanding or moving away from each other never having had you. Ahh, shit, I just.” Jongdae meets his eyes. “I’m not good at explaining things. You mean so much to me, okay? I love you. I love you, hyung. I want to show you.”

“Jongdae-ah…” Junmyeon cups his jaw. “I had no idea how much you needed to get laid.”

Jongdae blinks, then punches him. Junmyeon hoots through the pain in his shoulder. ”Baboya!” Jongdae lowers his fist. “I was spilling my heart out to you!” He whines and wriggles in Junmyeon’s embrace. “Leave me alone. Hyuuung. Why are you like this to me?”

“I can’t believe oppa loves me!”

“You’re such a little shit. You little shit!”

Junmyeon’s laughter echoes into the evening.

☆☆☆

 _Then you have to come claim me_. Jongdae’s evidently been watching too many dramas, because yikes.

What Would Suho Do, Kim Junmyeon thinks.

Jongdae’s either indifferent to getting caught or actually gets off on it. That’s really the key thing, Junmyeon evaluates, nibbling on the end of his pen/chopstick/fingernail while surveying Jongdae during Chinese practice/dinner/rest day. He wants to be challenged, and ultimately, well. Taken. 

This is an opportunity, Junmyeon tries to tell himself over the nervous hum of his heartbeat.

They’re in the elevator at the company offices behind Jongin and Chanyeol when Junmyeon conjures the courage to cup Jongdae’s ass. A gentle brush, first, almost as if by accident, then an appreciate curve of his palm, clearly not by accident. Jongdae flinches and turns his head. Locks eyes with Junmyeon. Turns back. Junmyeon squeezes. Jongdae swallows. Junmyeon ghosts a finger along his perineum. Jongdae exhales shakily. Bites his lip. Shifts restlessly on his feet. Jongin looks over his shoulder, but doesn’t appear to notice his hyung fondling his other hyung’s crotch from behind. When they exit the elevator, Jongdae has to carry his clutch across his hips. Junmyeon feels proud.

Backstage at a music show performance later that week, Junmyeon drags Jongdae into a stairwell and aggressively shoves him against the wall. They kiss and grind their clothed dicks against each other until Jongdae is flushed and whimpering.

“What a pretty man you are. I’m so ready to have you, Chen-ah.”

“Yes,” says Jongdae.

“Mm? You want that? Want me deep inside of you while I tell you what a good boy you are?”

“Y-yes,” says Jongdae. The dirty talk is clumsy and stolen almost verbatim from the Educational Experience, but it seems to do the job.

Jongdae, who’d been so fucking relaxed about it all, trembles under Junmyeon’s blustering courtship. Despite his earlier bravado, Jongdae wants to be led, directed, claimed. But the teasing is torturous for Junmyeon, too, and not just because it’s nerve-wracking and unfamiliar. Nearly every night he has to shut himself in the shower and fuck himself senseless, fingers up his ass because nowadays he feels so damn empty without Kim Jongdae inside him.

Jongdae starts blushing when Junmyeon enters a room, now, too. It’s enormously satisfying. Yixing takes one look at Jongdae one morning during breakfast and goes, “You like somebody.”

“What? No I don’t. _You_ like somebody.”

He smiles. “How do you think I recognized it in you?” Across the table, Sehun looks really fucking pleased with himself.

Although he suspects that the slightest mockery would make him fall apart, Junmyeon finds himself enjoying this role. He knows he can’t wait for Jongdae to make the next move, which is why Junmyeon’s the one to take a deep breath and do it himself.

“Sehunnie, I need a favour.”

Sehun surveys Junmyeon daintily from his bed.

“I need you to get the others out of the house on Saturday.”

“Are you planning a surprise party for my birthday?”

“Your birthday was two months ago.”

“So?”

“It’s not for your birthday.”

“Hm. Not interested, then.”

Junmyeon grits his teeth. “Everybody but Jongdae.”

Sehun’s sits up gleefully. “Oh. _Ohh ho ho._ ”

“Listen. Just.”

“ _Ohhhh ho ho ho hooo…_ ”

“Sehun. Please.”

“You gonna make out?”

“Please don’t do this to me.”

“You gonna fuck him up real nice?”

“ _Sehun!_ ”

“You gonna stick it in the butt?”

“I. Oh my god. I. I’m leaving. I can’t believe that you would. Oh my god. Sehun. Seriously. You need to just. Oh my god.”

“By the way, you owe me a new box of tissues.”

“I’m going to kill myself.”

“Dick Jongdae-hyung first. I think he really needs it.”

“Bye. Goodbye. Bye.”

“Love you.”

“ _Bye._ ”

☆☆☆

Despite his cheek, Sehun follows through. Disturbingly well, really. His subtlety is so good that Junmyeon finds himself forgetting to make an excuse to not go on Sehun’s fraudulent outing until he glares at him meaningfully from across the room. Sehun assures him later than Jongdae won’t be joining them, either. Junmyeon trusts him, because he has no choice, and also because he’s too nervous to form full sentences. He keeps wiping his palms on his pants.

The day arrives. The members depart. Junmyeon’s phone buzzes.

New Message From: ♡Sehunnie♡  
have fun

New Message From: ♡Sehunnie♡  
buy me something pretty

New Message From: ♡Sehunnie♡  
the anus provides no lubrication

Affronted, Junmyeon sticks his phone, and his hands, in his pockets. Jongdae is watching him from the couch. 

“Hey.”

“Hey. Do you want me to pretend like you didn’t arrange this so you can use the line you’ve been practicing in the mirror all week?”

Kim Junmyeon is going to murder Oh Sehun. “Pretend what you like,” he says in his best aloof voice. Dammit. It was a good line. What a waste. “It probably won’t change the outcome.”

Jongdae’s face splits in a smile. “Yahhh, such charm.” He stands and shifts his weight cheekily onto one leg. “Show me your next move.”

“I don’t need moves. If you knew I wanted you alone, then you’ve obviously chosen to stay. Come on.” He turns away with what he deems superhuman control and saunters as calmly as he can manage down the corridor to his bedroom. Junmyeon reclines on his bed, which he’s made for once, and takes a few calming, quiet breaths. This is really going to happen. This is really happening.

Predictably, Jongdae shows up in the doorway. Pouting. “You expect me to chase after you like a puppy?”

“You already have.” Junmyeon curtly pats the space next to him on the bed.

He whines, crossing the room to join him. “Okay,” he concedes. “Next move.” Junmyeon starts undressing him. “Whoa, hyung, not even going to spring for foreplay?”

“I’ve waited too long,” Junmyeon growls breathlessly, chucking the offending garments away. Jongdae’s already hard in his briefs. Junmyeon palms him reverently before pulling those off, too. 

“Well, you made quick work of that.”

Junmyeon kisses him forcefully and the sass dies on Jongdae’s tongue. “Listen,” he says, letting Jongdae pull off his own shirt and trousers. “You have to let me know if anything’s not okay. I’m going to be doing some things I’ve never done before.”

Jongdae hops on top of him to straddle his bare hips. “Got it. I trust you.” He angles their dicks together and grinds on his way to suck at Junmyeon’s mouth and rumble in his ear. “I’m ready for whatever you have for me, hyung.”

His pulse is fluttering, timid, but the man above him is so appetizing and sweet and eager that he feels more natural than nervous when he nibbles at Jongdae’s neck, sweeps his fingers over his shoulders and back, takes both of their cocks in his grasp and pumps. Jongdae mewls happily all the while, wriggling so much that Junmyeon follows the impulse to roll them over and pin him down gently. 

“You’re so attractive. It’s scary, hyung.”

Junmyeon’s only response is a muffled grunt because he’s pushing himself back and dipping his head down to take Jongdae’s cock in his mouth. It feels odd and unfamiliar but god, the noise that spills out of his friend’s mouth spurs him to slide his lips further down his shaft. He laps his tongue beneath the head and strokes him languidly, the sticky sounds of his own saliva making him throb.

Jongdae whines when Junmyeon surfaces for a second. “Hush,” Junmyeon teases, relinquishing his grasp to pull open his nightstand drawer and retrieve the Stuff he prepared earlier. He rubs the lube between his hands to warm it, then coats Jongdae’s dick with it before sliding the slick fingers of one hand along the cleft of his ass. 

His heart stutters when he reaches Jongdae’s hole. Hesitant. But also horny. He wonders if his fingernails are as short as they should be. He wonders if he has enough lube. He wonders if all of this is a good idea. 

Jongdae squirms helplessly under Junmyeon’s hands. “Do it,” he begs. So Junmyeon rubs carefully at his entrance, stroking his cock until Jongdae has to swat him away. “I don’t want to come until you fuck me,” he breathes.

“Who says I’m going to?”

“Please, _please_ fuck me.”

Junmyeon laughs then breaches him with one gentle finger.

“ _Ah._ ”

“This okay?”

“Yeah. Yes. Yeah. Aiiisssshhh.”

Junmyeon works slowly, drawing comforting circles with his free hand against Jongdae’s bucking hip. “Turn over,” Junmyeon suggests softly. Jongdae scrambles to obey, sighing shamelessly when the elder replaces his finger inside of him. The angle is better here. Also, Junmyeon gets to watch Jongdae’s ass. It’s a nice ass. 

When Jongdae starts to give a little, Junmyeon slides a second finger inside of him, twisting, thrusting gently, stretching him with a patience that has Jongdae whining in agitation. Junmyeon prods a little, not sure if he’s in the right spot until Jongdae twitches and moans against the pillows. Sweat is pooling in the dip of his arched back. “Oh, fuck,” he chokes. “Please fuck me.”

Junmyeon strokes his leg. Junmyeon strokes his prostate. “I’m nervous,” he confesses quietly.

Jongdae, spread and writhing and whimpering beneath him says, “I’ve got you, hyung.”

He’s got him.

Junmyeon sweeps lube over his cock, painfully hard from being neglected while he busying himself with Jongdae’s ass. But this is it. He positions himself and bows to brush his lips against his friend’s trembling shoulder.

Jongdae cries out when Junmyeon eases the tip of his cock inside of him. “G-god,” Junmyeon gasps, because the pressure on his dick is so fucking good and unlike anything he could have imagined. “D-dae. Jongdae?”

“I’m good,” he pants resolutely. “More. More, more.”

Junmyeon enters him inch by inch, breathing in harmony with Jongdae while he adjusts to the elder’s girth, wiggling and whimpering and wiggling and whimpering. “S’good… fuck… f-fuck…” The way Jongdae’s back muscles flex is the most beautiful thing Junmyeon has ever seen. “Please. Oh, please, hyung, please, please, please.”

Junmyeon presses himself deeper. Takes in all the breath he can fit in his lungs. Releases it and draws his hips away slowly, slowly. Presses inside again, deeper this time. Jongdae moans brokenly against the pillows. “Baby,” Junmyeon whispers.

Jongdae is white-knuckled and trembling beneath him. Junmyeon’s concerned that he didn’t prepare him well enough, but Jongdae seems to be enjoying himself anyways, purring and moaning and whining in turn.

“Hyung. I’m not going to last.”

“T-turn over again. I want to s-see you.”

They try to maneuver without separating, laughing shakily when they acknowledge its unlikelihood, gritting their teeth and groaning when Junmyeon gently pulls out. Jongdae rolls onto his back and wraps his legs around Junmyeon’s waist, pulling him closer. His teeth flash. “Ready.”

“Oh god, You’re so beautiful. Jongdae-ah, Jongdae, my Jongdae, sweetheart, Jongdae-ah.”

“Ready!”

“Dae-ah, baby, gorgeous. I love you. I love you so much.”

“Can you please put your dick back in me now?”

“’Kay. Yeah.”

“Thanks.”

Lube is reapplied, and they have to adjust again, but it’s easier this time, more pleasurable than painful. The new angle has them both clutching at the sheets. Jongdae is a piece of artwork. His bangs plastered all over his forehead, his perfect teeth glinting in a smirk, his pupils blown wide under his thick dark lashes. “You look so good,” the angel gasps up at Junmyeon. “You look so good fucking me. Please fuck me every day until I die.”

The fondness in Junmyeon’s chest threatens to suffocate him. Helpless adoration. He’s never loved anyone like this. “I will.”

“Good. Oh, _oh_ , good, you feel so good.” 

Junmyeon brings one shaking palm around Jongdae’s leaking cock. Pumps.

“Oh fuck. Oh _fuck_ , Suho-hyung.”

“J-Junmyeon. Call me Junmyeon.”

“Junmyeon-hyung.”

“Yes.”

“ _Junmyeon-hyung.”_

“ _Yes._ ”

Jongdae’s hips are bucking and his legs are urging him closer and his hands are tugging Junmyeon’s hair so exquisitely that he can’t help but increase his pace. The younger has become incomprehensible, a gorgeous mess of gasps and cries and curses. Junmyeon fucks him harder. Wants him to be so well-fucked. Wants Kim Jongdae to feel nothing but pleasure. 

His whole body seems to contract under Junmyeon and he moans brokenly, biting his lip before coming forcefully, his cock pulsing within Junmyeon’s fingers in time with the muscles that throb fiercely around Junmyeon’s dick. Junmyeon quakes, his orgasm chasing Jongdae’s renewed cries as he fucks every last ounce of cum into his best friend’s unbelievable ass. He lowers himself on one shaking forearm, Jongdae’s dick still in hand, their breath loud and laboured. 

“Ah,” says Jongdae.

“Mm,” says Junmyeon.

They stay like this until Junmyeon’s arm starts to give out. He pulls out of Jongdae and Jongdae shudders at the lost, his limbs melting against the mattress while Junmyeon tenderly cleans him up.

“I love you,” Jongdae mumbles when he rejoins him on the bed.

Junmyeon nestles against his broad chest. Wraps him up in his arms. Presses his lips against his beautiful skin. “You are everything to me,” he says.

☆☆☆

Nine boys enjoy the evening.

Yixing, Chanyeol, and Jongin are tossing a rugby ball. Minseok’s doing pull-ups on a tree. Kyungsoo is reading with his headphones on. On the soft gingham blanket they’ve spread on the grass, Jongdae is slipping his hand discreetly into Junmyeon’s. 

“When are we going to tell them?” he murmurs, watching the trajectory of the rugby ball.

“Soon,” says Junmyeon. The wind ruffles Jongdae’s hair. Junmyeon pushes it out of his face. “We’ve got time.”

Jongdae’s smile sends warmth through Junmyeon’s blood. “Yeah. We’ve got time.”

The leaves rustle peacefully. A cicada sings. It’s not long before Jongdae starts fidgeting. “Go play,” Junmyeon laughs, and the younger leaps up immediately to join the others in their game. Junmyeon stretches back on the blanket. The clouds are tinged pink by the sunset. Jongdae’s laughter rings in the air. Junmyeon is here, and he’s happy.

Baekhyun is standing restlessly nearby with their maknae, tearing up leaves in his long fingers. His eyes follow Yixing across the park.

The gentle breeze carries Baekhyun’s words to Junmyeon’s ears: “Sehunnie, I need a favour.”


End file.
